


Of lazy mornings

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Faunyatta, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 23:17:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14603889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *Doomfist/Zenyatta* faunyatta, lazy morning sex ;)





	Of lazy mornings

**Author's Note:**

> yum stuff with this ship that deserves far more love :D

**Of lazy mornings**

 

Zenyatta rouses slowly.

He is warm, a pair of arms wrapped around him, and the chest underneath his ear rumbles with a soft, continuous purr.

Wriggling a little, Zenyatta buries himself further in the comfortable embrace, and his knee brushes against something hard; he lifts his head, eyes fluttering open, ears twitching on top of his head. Under him, Akande is still asleep and Zenyatta smiles, watching the curve of his chin as his chest raises and falls in his deep sleep.

The hard bump against his knee is still there, and Zenyatta’s smile widens in a lazy stretch as he shuffles up, enough to nuzzle into Akande’s throat, breathing in the scent of his mate, tongue flicking out to lap at it until he feels Akande’s heartbeat flutter, the purring ceding way to wake.

“Morning,” he murmurs, softly, ears twitching on top of his head.

Akande’s lips extend in a pleased, sleepy smile and he tugs Zenyatta higher to kiss him, open mouthed and languid, and Zenyatta shuffles until he’s straddling Akande’s chest, tail fluffed up and hooves buried in the soft grass they’ve been sleeping on.

Zenyatta grinds down, a small push-pull of his hips, and Akande hums, one of his hands sliding down to cup his ass. Zenyatta can feel his claws extend just a bit.

“Eager,” the word is a rumble, lost under a soft, possessive growl that makes him shiver.

His cock presents itself, inches from the tufts of fur on his front and he angles himself back enough that he meets Akande’s already hard cock with his ass, rubbing his entrance against its length.

“I’m not the only one,” he answers, cheeky, and Akande chuckles, still sleepy but easily enticed by the beauty that is Zenyatta.

He is still loose from the previous night, from Akande’s lips and mouth and fingers and cock, and those needy sounds he makes, hands splayed on Akande’s chest as he lifts up to present himself, make him even more appealing.

The tip of Akande’s cock rubs against the folds of his opening, slick and puffy and ready, and Zenyatta bites down on his lower lip, eyes fluttering close, as he pushes back just enough for the tip to breach him.

Akande growls again, juts his hips so that he slides an inch deeper, and Zenyatta meets him there, mouth falling open as he guides Akande’s cock into him, thick and fat and stretching him slowly, far too slowly for his desires, the idea of being full again making the fur all over his body fluff up, heat dusting his skin crimson.

“Ah–”

He throws his head back when Akande’s hands wrap around his thighs, guiding him down, the drag of Akande’s cock stretching him as far as he can until he bottoms out, sheathed fully inside Zenyatta; Akande watches his lithe frame shudder, back straight as a rod, and Zenyatta takes air in small, desperate little gasps, stretched open so much it borders on painful, just as he likes it.

His eyes are wide, thinly veiled with desire and heat, blunt nails digging into Akande’s chest, and his cock is fully presented, glistening with slick and jutting up from his fur, red and hard. Akande’s eyes move from that enticing view to Zenyatta’s face, smug to see him already so close when they barely started, fondness mixing with desire.

“Do you think you can move, Zenyatta?” the purr is teasing, low enough the sound vibrates through Zenyatta’s frame, and he gasps, thighs tightening around Akande’s hips.

“I…” he tries, he truly does –he grinds down into him with small, hesitant motions, but each one makes him gasp and still, mouth open so wide to take in air, shoulders heaving with strain and desire, his cock leaking pearly slick onto Akande’s belly.

Akande’s cock is so thick inside him he barely needs to move before pleasure tingles down his body, and he’s buried so deep inside him that Zenyatta can feel it throb, and even moving an inch is enough to have him sway, pleasure making his mind heady.

“Then, I guess I should help you out, just this once.” Hands curl around his hips, and then Akande lifts him up, and his cock slides out of him with a slow, slippery drag, Zenyatta so slick and wet already, until there’s only the tip that’s left inside him and he keens, tightening around nothing, wanting it back in.

His hind legs dig into the grass, tail straight, ears twitching, and he arches up, exposing the beautiful curve of his naked neck, red and full of bite marks that show him as belonging to Akande.

The pleasure burns inside him, and there is no time to prepare when Akande tugs him back down, lifting his hips at the same time, and he fucks right back into Zenyatta with one smooth, single thrust, filling him up.

Pleasure explodes inside Zenyatta and he arches his back, nails digging into the hands holding him steady, drool dribbling down his chin.

Again, Akande lifts him and again he fucks into him, and Zenyatta scrambles to meet the merciless pace, grinding down into Akande’s cock, small gasps of pleasure bubbling out of his lips as he pleads Akande to fuck him harder, even as Akande takes his time, pupils turned into slits and focused on his face and on his cock, dribbles of precome covering his chest and making a mess.

Zenyatta grits his teeth, shuddering, overwhelmed by the wet, lewd slap of skin against skin as Akande continues to fuck him. He’s so close, too close too quickly, but he’s tired and still aching from yesterday, yet he wants this so much, wants Akande to stay inside him, wants those hands to hold him and pin him down, and he wants his lover to claim him, wants to claim Akande back until the world knows that he is Zenyatta’s, and Zenyatta is his, and–

He shudders and comes, strings of white marking Akande as he fucks him deep and slow, and he hasn’t even touched him, his cock aching even as he climaxes, and it is only then that Akande’s hand moves away from his hip to wrap around it, thumb smearing Zenyatta’s come over the tip of his cock, oversensitive and wanting, always wanting.

His fingers are calloused and big and Zenyatta keens, bucks into the touch and moans when it jostle Akande’s still hard cock inside him. They are not finished, not yet, and he wants and wants more.

 “Such insatiable lover I have,” Akande tugs him down, their chests bumping together, even as he stays seated inside. Zenyatta shudders when they kiss, Akande’s sharp teeth nibbling into his soft lips, teasing. “I have been lucky.”

Zenyatta smiles into the kiss, aching for more even after coming, brings both hands to cup Akande’s face, fingers reaching up to his ears, rewarded when they twitched under his touch and Akande growls against his lips.

“Surely I should say the same,” he murmurs, affection and lust bleeding together, “when I have you to call my own.”

When Akande rolls them over, towering down on Zenyatta’s lithe form, Zenyatta pushes his thighs wide apart, presenting himself, his twitching cock and how stretched his entrance is around Akande’s cock, and wraps both arms around his lover’s neck.

 

 


End file.
